


Remember, They're Just Flowers

by penstrikesmidnight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Flowers, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 13:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30073110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penstrikesmidnight/pseuds/penstrikesmidnight
Summary: Kuroo and Kenma aren't new to the long distance relationship game, but this time around Kuroo's acting distant and Kenma doesn't know how to fix it. But they'll work through it, because they always do. Right?
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Remember, They're Just Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I wrote this piece for the [Blossoms Entwined](https://twitter.com/kurokenfanzine) KuroKen Zine! This project was so fun to work on and I had such a good time writing this! It's actually based on a real thing that happened to my friend, and it brought back some good memories while I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do for this piece. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Kenma hated Skype. One would think, because he stared at screens all day, he would be okay with long-distance video calls. But every time he clicked on Kuroo’s contact, he felt the same sense of dreaded anticipation he had experienced the first time they had been forced to do this, Kuroo at university, Kenma stuck in his last year of high school. Usually, Kenma tried to get Kuroo to be the one to start the call, because at least that way he was only feeling anticipation before he accepted it. He didn’t have to work up the courage to actually push the call button, then hold his breath, hoping Kuroo picked up.

Kuroo had been acting odd lately. Taking hours to answer Kenma’s simple _how are you?_ messages and dodging Kenma’s questions of whether or not Kuroo wanted to talk on the phone or Skype or watch Kenma play something online. Kuroo was usually the one sending these types of messages, and he never went longer than an hour or two before replying to Kenma, even when he was stressed. Kenma felt untethered, as if the stake he had been growing around had suddenly snapped.

Kenma had never called Kuroo without giving him warning first, either. But, Kuroo still had yet to answer Kenma’s good morning message, and it was eight at night now. Kenma didn’t think sending another message would help matters much. So, cringing as if his laptop were about to shock him, Kenma clicked on Kuroo’s contact.

Five long seconds passed, Kenma listening to the tinny default ring he had yet to turn off. Finally, Kuroo answered. Kenma released his breath when he saw Kuroo’s familiar face and his worried frown. Kenma missed Kuroo so much. 

“Hey,” Kuroo said, “are you okay?”

When Kenma and Kuroo were little, they had banded together because of their introverted natures. As they grew older, Kuroo had blossomed, thanks to volleyball and his innate leadership skills, while Kenma had stayed tightly furled. But Kenma had never felt like Kuroo was abandoning him, even in the year Kuroo was at college while Kenma finished high school. Both of them had agreed that being separate for a few years was best, before making their relationship official at the start of Kenma’s sophomore year of college. And Kenma firmly believed their relationship was better for it.

But here, three weeks into their first real long-distance relationship, Kenma felt like he was trying to keep a wilting flower from dying, which, from experience, he knew he was terrible at. It was the reason Kuroo had taken their orchids with him. Kenma missed the pretty purple splash of color next to their beige blinds, but Kuroo had always been the one partial to keeping them. And the one best equipped to keep the finnicky things alive.

“I’m fine,” Kenma answered Kuroo’s question after studying him for a few seconds. Kuroo looked tired, his usual bright eyes dull, his hair drooping more than normal, washing his face in shadows. “Do we actually have lights in our new house, or have you turned into a vampire since you’ve been gone?”

“Oh,” Kuroo said, glancing up at the ceiling as if noticing for the first time that the only light in the room came from a streetlight outside and the florescent backwash of the television. Kuroo reached out with his long arm, flicking the light on with one finger. Kenma had always admired the litheness of Kuroo’s body, the ever-present grace that accompanied any movement. 

Kenma’s chest felt tight as he watched Kuroo settle into the couch again and throw his head back with a sigh, showing off the long line of his neck.

“Rough day at work?” Kenma asked when Kuroo didn’t say anything. He didn’t like leading the conversation, but Kuroo clearly wasn’t going to.

Kuroo shrugged. “I’m still getting used to the schedule, but I’m essentially working without a trainer now, so that’s nice.”

Kenma waited, but Kuroo offered no more details. Kenma swallowed, averted his eyes, thinking back to all their other calls, how they had started so nice then got shorter, more awkward. Was it his fault? Was he not a good conversationalist? Did Kuroo want something…more?

“Are…” Kenma said, his voice cracking. His eyes flitted to Kuroo, who craned his neck up to see Kenma better, eyebrows lowering in confusion. Kenma looked away and tried again. “Are we okay?”

Kenma heard the couch shift. Kuroo must be sitting up now. Kenma could imagine the concerned look on Kuroo’s face, the way his lips would draw down, his eyes narrow. Kenma had seen the look so many times before. “Of course. Why? Kenma, what’s wrong?”

“I think I should be asking you that.” Kenma didn’t mean for his voice to sound so brittle. He finally looked back at Kuroo, who was staring at him, surprise written across his face. “It takes you hours to respond to me. Every time I try to get you on a call, you say you’re busy. I mean, I understand, this job is really important, and I want to give you as much space as you need, but…”

“I killed the orchids.”

Kenma blinked, snapping his mouth closed. Out of everything he was expecting Kuroo to say, this was not it. “You…You killed the orchids?” he repeated, then wished he hadn’t when Kuroo’s mouth tightened. Kenma hadn’t seen him this upset since their loss to Karasuno or, more specifically, the fact that he was done playing volleyball at Nekoma.

Compounded with the stress of their long-distance situation, Kenma could see how Kuroo may have blown the death of their orchids out of proportion. Kenma clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Kuroo shrugged. “You sent them with me. If they had stayed with you…If you had been the one in charge of them, they wouldn’t have died.”

Kenma snorted. Now that he knew what Kuroo had been so upset about, he felt much less worried. “I highly doubt that. Remember when I killed our first orchids, the pretty white ones, because you had to go away for the summer? Clearly, I am not adept at taking care of any living plant.”

“But these ones were…special. Ours. We bought them when we moved in together.” Kuroo sighed. “And it was just a freak accident! I ran into a restaurant to get lunch, and the line was longer than I expected, and I decided to stay in and eat. I’d barely been inside an hour. But the orchids were in direct sunlight the whole time, so even though it’s still cold outside, it just…”

Kenma listened as Kuroo finally told him what he was feeling, for the first time in weeks. Kenma flopped back into the couch, relieved that their relationship could rebloom with just a simple Skype call and a few prodding questions. 

Kenma got out his phone when Kuroo had exhausted his orchid story and moved on to less serious topics, but instead of playing one of his mindless phone games, Kenma looked up flower shops in the area.

When Kuroo’s voice finally tapered off forty minutes later, Kenma had come up with his plan. “You’re just going to be home tomorrow, right? You don’t work this Saturday?”

Kuroo nodded. Kenma gave him a small smile. “Perk up, Tetsurou. It’s not the end of our lives. You need to get some good sleep and do nothing all weekend. Got it? And remember, they were just flowers.”

Kenma knew Kuroo thought the orchids were more than just flowers, but Kuroo didn’t argue. “Yeah. I am kind of tired.”

They said their goodbyes. As soon as Kuroo signed off, Kenma jumped up, grabbed an old backpack, and put together an overnight bag. “Stupid Tetsu,” he muttered, but he couldn’t say he was upset that there was a reason for him to visit Kuroo. He missed him more than he thought was possible, and if delivering orchids to his clearly emotional boyfriend would cheer him up, Kenma would do it.

* * *

The next day, a three-hour train ride and one pink Phalaenopsis richer, Kenma stood outside the gate of a small, neat house. He had seen the house twice before; once, when they’d initially walked past it on accident, lost between Kuroo’s new workplace and the subway station, and the second time, when they had toured it with a realtor. Kenma still couldn’t believe it was really his—well, his and Kuroo’s together, and not a rental, like the place he was in now.

He opened the gate and walked up the sidewalk. He was allowed to go into his own house unannounced, right? He had a key.

He gripped the orchid tightly for just a moment before deciding, yes, he would walk in without knocking. If he were going to surprise Kuroo, he wasn’t going to do it halfway.

The entrance was bare, as Kenma expected it to be. He kicked off his shoes, lining them up alongside Kuroo’s. It looked…normal, and Kenma breathed a sigh of relief.

He padded barefoot down the short hallway, which opened into a living room with a kitchen off to the side. Kenma looked around, surprised to see a bookshelf and some pictures of the two of them hanging on the walls. The kitchen looked well-stocked, and there were even flour and sugar canisters lined up on the counter.

There was no sign of Kuroo. “Hello?” Kenma called, rooted in place.

“Kenma?!”

Kuroo came out of the back room, towel in hand, dressed in joggers and a plain black t-shirt. If his hair were any indication, he’d just finished drying it. Kenma gave him a small smile as he held out the orchid. “Surprise.”

Kuroo gave a disbelieving laugh, then dropped the towel and gave Kenma a hug, careful not to smash the orchid between them. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” Kuroo said, tracing the light pink petals before running his fingers down the long stem. Kenma had always loved watching Kuroo with their plants, especially the orchids, admiring the way Kuroo cared for them so elegantly, the same way he nurtured their relationship.

“I wanted to tell you I love you,” Kenma said simply.

Kuroo’s laugh was breathy with disbelief. “I didn’t think you knew anything about flower meanings.”

Kenma smiled. “To be perfectly honest, I learned last night. It was the only pink one in the store. And I thought it might be time to try a new color.”

Kuroo set the orchid on the counter. Kenma wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s waist when he turned back to Kenma, clinging to him fiercely. He breathed in Kuroo’s smell, a mix of the woodsy body wash he had used since high school and his lemony shampoo. Kenma never wanted to let go.

Kuroo laughed. Kenma talked into Kuroo’s shirt. “You don’t have any plans today, right?”

“Nothing that can’t be moved around.”

Kenma felt Kuroo’s hand brush through his hair. He looked up to see Kuroo smiling at him softly. “Welcome home, love. Even if it’s only temporary right now.”

Kenma grinned. Kuroo cupped Kenma’s cheek, leaned down, and kissed him. When the broke away, Kenma whispered, his lips brushing Kuroo’s, “It’s good to be home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments/kudos always welcome!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/pensmidnight)   
>  [tumblr](https://twirlergirl1206.tumblr.com/)


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